Local Whispers
Page 12
“I’m not talking to her,” Sean says.
That is when Kate loses it. She takes the two remaining steps, grabs Sean’s chin and forcefully turns it towards her. “I am serious,” she hisses. “You get out. You get out now!”
And there is something. It might be the tremor in her voice, the tears glistening in her eyes, or the red patches of anger on her skin.
Whatever it is, it makes him look at her.
“Come on, Kitty,” he says, suddenly quiet. “Come on, you got to go. I’m serious.”
She shakes her head. She lets him go. Pushes him away. “Get out!”
Sean takes up his duffle bag, his rifle, glances at me one last time, nods, and then he is gone.
The moment she has heard the front door fall shut, Kate sinks down onto the sofa. She buries her face in her hands. Her shoulders start shaking.
I sit down next to her. Wrap an arm around her.
“That fucking arsehole,” she hiccups, between her tears, between trying to wipe them off more quickly than they come. “That fucking arsehole made me cry. I couldn’t hold them back, and he only left because he can’t fucking handle it when someone cries…”
I pull her closer. Put my lips against her temple. “It’s all right. He’s gone now.”
“Maybe we should go,” she says. She’s hiccupping. “Hotel. Newry. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we should get out of here.”
I pull her towards me. She puts her head on my shoulder.
“You can lean on me, too, you know,” she says.
I nod. Slowly, I lower my head. I put it on top of hers.
We sit like this for a while. Until she is no longer shaking in my arms. Until she reaches out to wipe her face. There is no music on in the background, there are only the inky sounds of the encroaching night.
“Why do you think he came?” I ask.
“Because he’s an arsehole,” she replies. “Thinks he’s all important with that Neighbourhood Watch crap.”
“No, I mean…” I hesitate.
Kate looks at me. “What?”
“Maybe he knows more than we do.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe he knows who has been threatening you. Maybe he thinks that something’s going to happen.”
“Or maybe it was him all along,” she says. “Maybe this is his way of revenge.”
No music.
Only the inky sounds of the encroaching night.
Only our breaths in the darkness.
18:15
“Are you upset about Daniel?” I ask her. We are still in the sitting room. Neither of us has bothered to turn on the lights.
She shakes her head. “No,” she replies. “I suspected. Besides, it’s time I stopped dating men who aren’t good for me.” She is holding onto the soles of her feet, knees drawn into her chest. “Makes you think, doesn’t it.” She stares at the lists and letters on the table. “Time’s precious.”
“You can still be upset,” I tell her. “Even if it’s all right.”
She shrugs. “What good would that do?”
Then she looks at me. “I’m not upset about the way you look at him.”
I stop. I start. “What?”
She smiles, even though it looks a little watery. “Well, am I wrong?”
“How did you know? How do you even know that I fancy… well…”
“Men?”
“Both!”
“I’ve had my suspicions.”
“When?” I sit up. “How?”
She laughs. “Oh, just since we first met.”
I stare at her, wide-eyed. “I was hitting on you when we first met!”
She grins. “Well, I figured you went for both. You were also making eyes at the waiter, don’t you remember? He was very fit. Much fitter than you, really. It was a bit embarrassing, let me tell you.”
And then we are both laughing all of a sudden. It is the only thing to do in the silence and the darkness of the night that is coming.
23:15
We make a quick dinner, then we do the washing up. I ask Kate whether she wants to stay at a hotel tonight.
She shakes her head.
“Let’s decide tomorrow. I’m knackered.”
I nod. Then I glance out of the kitchen window.
It is late. It is dark.
They might be back.
Kate follows my gaze. Quickly, I look back at the washing up, but it is too late. She has already risen to her feet. Already turned off the light and stepped up to the kitchen window.
“Can you see anything?” I ask quietly, still tasting the sweet soft icing of the carrot cake on my tongue.
She stares.
And stares.
And stares.
“Kate?” I ask.
Finally, she shakes her head. “No, there is nothing.”
I join her by the window. I can see nothing but the mountains and the moor and the trees. There is no movement. No rifle. No silhouette.
“Maybe they’re not coming tonight,” Kate whispers.
I am about to nod when we hear the crashing sound.
It is coming from the bedroom.
23:29
The brick has shattered the window. The glass is spread out all over the floor, the bed, the blanket and pillows.
Kate’s and my fingers intertwine as she reaches for the piece of paper that has been fastened to it.
There shall be one law for the native and for the stranger who sojourns among you.
The words blur in front of my eyes. Kate calls me by my name.
“What does this mean?” I ask.
“It means,” she says, sounding angry and worried and afraid, “that now they’re after you, too.”
Statement
Detective Sergeant Olivia Cahill interviewing
Florence O’Rawe
3 Forest Dr
BT34 4DDF
Are you here about Alice Walsh?
Oh. Oh. You’re not? What is it about, then?
I think I should be getting Will.
No? All right. Of course.
No, I’m a little… Things like that don’t happen here. They just don’t happen here.
You’re saying Kate is being threatened? I didn’t realise. No, I didn’t. That is terrible. Truly terrible.
She was attacked? Goodness me. Goodness.
What do you mean, how did I know about the attack? I didn’t know until you just told me.
Oh.
Oh.
Well.
I…
She told you I had come by with the casserole, then. Well, I didn’t know what else to do for her, I figured she’d…
She doesn’t eat lamb? She’s a vegetarian now? Oh, that’s good to know. Good to know.
Maybe I should get William after all.
All right, no, no, it’s all right. I wouldn’t know where he is, anyway. Always in and out, that one. Even before Neighbourhood Protection.
I can tell you how I know of the attack. Of course I can. William told me.
How did he know? Oh, well, wait, let me think…
Goodness me, I don’t know. What did he say?
I truly cannot remember, Detective. I’m so sorry. I just don’t…
I should take my time, you say? Of course. Of course. I’ll take my time… give it a proper think. Yes, a proper think.
Let’s see. It was yesterday. I came home from my lunch break. To have lunch. Obviously. I came home, and William was there, and he looked shaken, and he told me his mother had been over. That’s odd. It’s more than odd, actually. I thought he was pulling my leg. His mother never comes over. But he claimed she’d told him about Kate’s injury.
Did I believe him?
Why wouldn’t I believe my husband?
That’s not what you asked, I know.
I didn’t…
I didn’t know whether to believe him or not. He’s been so… Well. He’s been…
Well. I don’t know. Maybe he’s always been like that.
Who’s everyone?
Oh. Oh, you know.
Just.
Everyone.
Day 5
Sunday 6th January 2019
Statement
Detective Constable Norah Bailey interviewing (door-to-door)
Betha O’Reilly
2 College Rd
Glasheen
Cork
T12 ACP5
We came up to visit Alice. As in, Enda and me. He is my twin brother. Yep, twins. Very special and all that.
No, it is. It is special. But that isn’t what we are here to talk about, are we? We are here to talk about Liz.
You know what is funny? What is so very funny? Is that we haven’t known each other long. Liz and I. Liz and Enda and I. We only met in the summer. She was in Cork for it, I don’t even know why, really. She wanted a break from her parents, I think, and they wouldn’t let her travel any further on her own? I don’t even know.
Yes, that is where we met. On the beach.
How?
Coincidence. Don’t talk to me about fate. So silly. We got lucky, that’s all.
How lucky we got.
Is it better, do you think? Is it better to have known someone for a little while than not to have known them at all?
I wouldn’t. Change anything. I wanted to know her. She wanted to know me.
We wanted everything.
She wasn’t happy at home. No, she really wasn’t. That was obvious from the start. She hated her mum. And her dad, he was completely mad.
What do I mean by that?
If he was ever violent towards her? No, God no. She said she was a daddy’s girl. Yeah, she really did say that. He was super protective of her.
But he was also… I don’t know. He didn’t seem right to me. There was something there in his past, I think. The Troubles. I don’t know what exactly, Liz never said. So he was very protective of her. He would have killed someone if they did anything to her, I’m pretty sure. And he was so easily disappointed. Liz said he hated her mum, because she’d tried to abort her. Plain hated her. She said that’s what turned her mum into such a bitch.
Sorry.
I’m sorry.
Liz could do no wrong in his eyes, of course. She always got away with everything. And he took her with him on hunting trips and stuff, with his friends.
That’s how she met the father of the baby.
Did her father know?
I don’t know. I don’t think so.
08:45
Dutifully, we report the new letter to the police, as well as the brick. Detective Sergeant Cahill comes down to the house before dawn. She looks very worried and intensely tired and a little suspicious. She glances at the letter. Then she takes out her notebook, as if trying to verify something.
I wonder what that could be, but the Detective Sergeant does not seem to find what she is looking for, closing her notebook once more while muttering under her breath before she tells us that it might be wise to leave the village. Check into a hotel for a couple of nights.
Once she has left, we sit at the small kitchen table, watching the sun rise above the mountains outside the window. Kate is wearing a dressing-gown, I am still in yesterday’s sweater. Neither of us has slept much. We are both cradling a mug of tea, hoping the caffeine will revive us a little.
“How long have you known?” she asks suddenly, seamlessly continuing a conversation cut short by the arrival of the police. “About you… fancying both.”
I shrug. “You just know, don’t you? You look at someone and you know that you want them.”
I am pretending that my heart isn’t aching while I say this.
Kate leans back in her chair. “Look at us,” she says. “Hell, look at Daniel. Struggling with all this. Young people are much more relaxed about all this, aren’t they? They have grown up in this world of peace and relative wealth and with all the rights in the world. Abortion, being gay…”
“Bisexual,” I correct her.
She runs her fingers along the rim of her mug. The bags sit heavily under her eyes. “Well, either way, they wouldn’t date dickheads like Sean. Or priests.”
“Alice slept with a friend of her father’s.” I think of the man with the rifle. I think of the letters. “We shouldn’t stay here. There must be somewhere affordable to stay in Newry. Just for a few days. Give the police a chance to arrest a suspect.”
“Yes,” Kate says. “We’ll pack our bags and spent the night in Newry,” Kate says. Then she looks at me. “But first, we have to do one more thing.”
“Like what?”
“Go to mass.”
“To mass?”
“Well, we can’t just go now, when we’re so close to finding out who’s behind this.”
I am staring at her as if she has gone mad. “What?”
“We need to go to mass,” she says. “Everyone will be there, won’t they?” she says. She seems excited as she makes for the sitting room.
“Yes, I guess,” I say, getting up to follow her. “Everyone who’s a Catholic, anyway.”
“Then we will find the person who threw that brick.”
“How?” I ask. “Kate, what’s going on?”
She picks up the latest letter. “They rather showed their hand with this one, wouldn’t you say?”
It takes me a moment to realise what she is saying. “It’s handwritten.”
She nods triumphantly. “They must have been in a hurry.”
Kate is properly grinning now. “What do you think, the red suit? Before I have to get back into the lab coat tomorrow?”
“Perfect,” I reply. “And then to Newry.”
She nods. “I’ll go get dressed.”
“Better find something smarter to wear, too,” she says as she leaves the kitchen. “Wouldn’t want me to outshine you when we are going to see Father Daniel.”
Very wisely, I do not say anything.
All I do is flip her the finger.
10:21
Our plan is simple: before mass, we will convince Daniel to include a little interactivity in today’s service. He will have to ask everyone to write down a few words, say he will use the notes in the memorial service he is surely planning; he has to ask everyone to write as clearly as possible, preferably in capital letters, for better legibility, of course. This way, we will have a beautiful sample against which to compare the most recent missive.
And perhaps we might even be given a hint about the identity of the man Alice Walsh slept with. He may be there. He may write something down that gives him away, even if he doesn’t realise it.
Daniel, however, seems not very well pleased with our idea. “That’s deceit,” he says as all three of us stand in the sacristy, Daniel, with arms crossed and incapable of looking either of us in the eye. Instead he frowns at the dust collecting on top of the shelves in the rectory. He mumbles something about Tessa not doing her job properly these past few weeks.
“Right,” Kate says. “And we all know that’s just not your thing.”
“It’s actually not, you know,” he protests. “I was terrible at pretending not to be sleeping with you.”
“That is true,” I confirm.
He glares at me. Actually glares. I didn’t think he was capable.
“Look, it’s not technically a lie,” Kate tries. “You will actually use them in a memorial service. It’s just that they’ll be taking a bit of a detour first.”
“We need them for a couple of hours, maybe three,” I add.
Daniel shakes his head. He looks a little too defeated for my taste. “I thought I was through with lying.”
“What’s one more time for a worthy cause?” I ask cheerfully.
His expression does not match my cheer. “There is something about you, Jannis, and I am not sure if it does not rub me the wrong way.”
“Shame,” Kate says innocently. “He speaks so highly of you.”
“Fuck off,” Daniel and I say at just about the same time. She suppresses a pointed grin, then turns to Daniel. “You owe me. For telling me you loved no one but me, no one, no one, no one.”
He gives a painful smile. It makes me ache. “Repaying a lie with another lie?”
“Very Old Testament of me, right?” Kate asks happily. “Eye for an eye.”
“When will it end?” Daniel mumbles, looking at the floor.
My heart goes out to him. I want to tell him that one can tell the truth and come out of it alive. More alive, even.
“The truth can be said,” I tell Daniel. “You can say it.”
He is still staring at the floor. “Then everything will change,” he says.
“Yes,” I say simply.
He closes his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll do you your little favour. Now let me get ready in peace. And find some pens and paper, which I assume you didn’t think to bring.”
In fact, we did not.
11:01
When the service begins, everyone is here.
The church feels different during the day, and when it is filled with worshippers in their Sunday dress. The stained-glass windows are lit with the pale light of a cold winter morning. Everyone looks sharp, as if thrown into focus. Wrinkles are deeper, exhaustion starker, lips paler, white shirts glaringly bright.
Megan and Patrick Walsh sit in the front row. Megan did not take a single look at us, but she did not ask for us to be removed, either. Patrick Walsh glanced our way. His gait is unstable. They are both in their best Sunday dress.
In the pew behind them sit William and Florence O’Rawe.
Tessa Adams is also there, but she keeps to the back. Maybe she is worried about being spotted by Father Daniel, who might have words with her about the dust on the shelves in the rectory. Her mother is not here. She would be a Protestant, of course. Then again, Tessa might be, too? Sean O’Doherty isn’t here, either, I realise, and curse silently.